Lantern Moths
by Crystallised-Hearts
Summary: Tevinter is her past. Kirkwall is her future. Farwen's journey is reaching an end, but sometimes secrets have a way of reveling themselves. Sometimes running isn't the best path to take, but when given no other choice, it becomes the only path she knows. Original Character x Original Character. Comments appreciated.
1. Hope in Oppression

Lantern Moths

Chapter I: A New Beginning

I listened to the swift smack the waves made against the sides of the ship and the mutters of the peasants below deck. Sea water had found its way into the hull. It wasn't enough to cause any real trouble, but it was enough to unsettle the people that lay there. As the distant mist cleared, the form of a city came into view.

Through squinted eyes I was able to make out cliff and sea walls, so tall and vast that they'd rival the greatest mountain. They stretched out for miles. Stone sculptures carved into the cliff's faces spoke of servitude and oppression. The chains crafted into the wrists and ankles of men made it more than apparent.

Further on down the channel was the city. It was a large mass of stone towers and steel gates on first glance, but within was the promise of wealth and safety, or at least that was what I had heard. I clung to the hope of that, as it was the only hope I had since leaving my home.

My gaze drifted to the falgard (dwarf), smaller than most but who was wise past his years. He kept his steady gaze fixed on the dagger in his hand and tugged at the edge of his unkept beard, deep in thought.

"Are you sure about this, Bruneor?" I asked as I took a step away from the ship's edge. "What will happen once we enter the city?"

Bruneor slowly looked up. A smirk tugged at the corners of his cracked lips. "You haven't got cold feet already have you, kid?"

"I just wish to know what to expect is all," I replied and turned my back to him.

Lights within cracked lanterns flickered amongst the masts like moths caught within a jar. It was difficult to focus on the horizon, rather than them.

"Look, I promised to take care of you, and I never go back on a promise," Bruneor said and took one of the lanterns from its post. With rough fingers he opened the casing and blew out the flame. "You leave the talkin' to me and we'll soon have nothing to worry about."

"I guess it's normal to feel nervous then, yes?" I smiled slightly.

Bruneor smiled in return and gave a short nod. "Think of it as an adventure, kid. It might help."

My fingers wound themselves around the edges of my cloak. I tugged it closer around myself. "Maybe."

I looked back over my shoulder. The figure of the pale Qunari, wrapped in a dark cloak with a bow and quiver strapped to his back, stood stern with his head held high. Anyone that dared to pass either Bruenor or I earned his glare. He hadn't spoken a word since we'd left Tevinter. Of course, I never truly remembered a time when he had spoke. My master gave him orders and he did as he was commanded. This one such task did not entail conversation, but there were times when I wished it had.

"Strange, how he's been silent this past month," Bruneor muttered, though it was more to himself than to me. "If he wasn't for our protection, I would've left him back at the last harbour."

"You know we have no choice but to trust him."

"Perhaps," he said. "At least he'll benefit us once we enter the city."

"And what may that benefit be exactly?" I asked.

"With a man like that, thieves will think twice about stealing from us, as will any guards we pass."

I let a laugh escape me. "You do have a point, but we are not supposed to attract attention, remember?"

"Well, we've been treading on loose sand since we left Tevinter. I doubt our visit here will be much different."

The sailors took to their posts when the ship drifted into the harbour. Ropes were thrown from the deck and tied to the outer wall. I'd read that centuries back the harbour and entrance to the city was layered with market stalls selling various wines and spices. To think, Kirkwall was once a thriving trading community. When I looked over the many refugees and guards that prevented them from entering, I realised that my expectations were little short of fantasies.

There was a stall or two but little else. By the state of his clothes, the merchant to my right was obviously Orlesian, but the crying woman next to him was enough to deter my curiosity.

"There is just one thing I need to make clear," Bruneor said with an outstretched arm. His tone was quiet and if it was not for my elven hearing, I doubted I would've heard him at all. "Stay away from the Templars. They aren't like the ones in Minrathous."

I scoffed. "I don't fear any Templar, Bruneor."

"You should be," he warned. All humour faded from his voice. "They're stricter about magic here, Farwen. They won't hesitate to drag you to the Gallows. So, keep the conjuring tricks to a minimum, understood?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good," he smiled. "Now let's get this over with."

It didn't take long for the refugees to notice my Qunari guard. If I remembered correctly, my master called him Quick Silver.

I pulled the tip of my hood further down and tried my best to ignore them. Their wide eyes and parted mouths made it difficult, though. "Where are we going?"

"Shh! Keep quiet. Do you want the whole city to hear us?" Bruneor asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him but did as he said.

We passed many narrow passages between buildings and gates until we came across a small group of humans. Most of their faces were covered and they wore dark armour. It only took a moment to realise who they were. Mercenaries.

"Bruneor" one of them greeted. He pulled his face-mask down and shook Bruneor's hand. He gestured to me with a gloved thumb. "This her?"

"Yeah, that's her. We need to get into the city," Bruneor explained and handed the human a satchel. The coins inside clinked as they collided together.

The man weighed the satchel with his hands. After a long moment, he nodded to another mercenary and handed it to him. "Alright, we can get you past. The Qunari won't be easy though."

"Just do what you have to. It's vital that she gets inside the walls," Bruneor snapped. He looked back at me and sighed. "I have some business I need to take care of. Follow Ryleth. I'll meet up with you in the marketplace."

I frowned. "What? You cannot be serious-"

He shook his head. "Trust me, kid. I wouldn't leave unless I had a choice."

"Don't worry, lass. Do as I say and you'll be just fine," Ryleth said, but his sly smirk hinted other things and got me to tense.

"Sorry, but I don't even know you," I said. I tried to hide my bitterness, but it wasn't easy. "You could hand me to the guards at any moment."

"Ryleth works for Athernril. He's one of her best smugglers," Bruneor reassured. "He may be a thief, but you can trust him."

"Look dwarf, we're not staying here forever. Are you coming elf or not?" Ryleth asked and crossed him arms.

I bit my tongue and after a glance at Quick Silver, nodded.

"Good, then let's get going," Ryleth finished and motioned for his men to move ahead of us.

Bruneor patted my shoulder. "I'll be back soon. Just focus on getting past the guards."

"Alright," I sighed and watched as he disappeared around the corner.

I brought my eyes to the sky and tapped the mage staff attached to my back. My hands lingered there for a moment, mostly to reassure myself that I hadn't lost it. Maker knew what would happen if I did.

_Kirkwall,_ I thought. _Maybe life wouldn't be so bad. After all, this was the city of second chances._


	2. Second Chances

Chapter II: Second Chances

I brought my hand over my eyes as the sunlight hit both Quick Silver and I directly. We had spent too long in those damned sewers and the somewhat comparable smell to rotten eggs and stale fish lingered in the air. Interestingly, Quick Silver seemed unaffected by it. Either that or he was good at keeping his thoughts and feelings hidden. I on the other hand told the mercenaries every detail of what I thought. After sometime they threatened to push me into the invested waters, but as time went on, they soon forgot about it.

"Here you are elf. This is Lowtown," Ryleth said as he sauntered out of the tunnel. He looked over the city with a cocky, almost arrogant grin.

I huffed. _Humans and their pride._

With no lack of confidence, he placed both hands behind his back and raised his head. "Now, I trust that you know who to come to if you ever need a service such as this again."

"Sure, of course human. I would _love_ to journey through the sewers again. Shall we go back through now?" I asked sarcastically.

Ryleth's grin faded. His voice was low as he spoke. "Would you rather be on the other end of Kirkwall waiting to get here?"

I paused and folded my arms. "No, not at all."

Ryleth looked at the marketplace. He inclined his head so that only the side of his unshaven face was shown. "Exactly. People complain about my methods but at least I get the job done."

He turned away from Quick Silver and I and gestured for his men to journey back through the sewers. His hand waved in the air, almost without a care in Thedas. "Enjoy the city and what not. Come find Athernril if you need me again."

I caught his wink as he locked the gate behind him. Shortly after, I was unable to see his form in the shadows and assumed that he was gone.

_So, this was Kirkwall._

It didn't look any better from what I had already seen. People dressed in poorly tattered rags wandered through dusty streets, almost like they were lost and without a purpose. They never walked for long, yet neither did they stay in one place. Their hands clung to their pockets like a life-line.

As we passed them, it became apparent that the smallest movement was enough to make the people around us tense. Even the merchants kept their eye on anyone that looked like they didn't belong in Kirkwall, like they expected something to happen. Though, that didn't stop them from chanting about their fine wares and finds, ready for their next sale.

"Come to the Iron Order. Best weapons in Kirkwall. Forged from the Dwarves in Orzammar themselves!" one merchant yelled.

"Fine Fereldan wears. Perfect for the Fereldan refugee. Orlesian dresses, better and cheaper than those in Hightown," said another.

Quick Silver still gained attention, and even though it seemed more negative than surprised, the local humans hadn't stared for too long. I guessed that even with odd sights, such as us, people didn't want to be distracted for too long.

"Bruneor said to meet him in the marketplace, yes?" I asked Quick Silver.

Without a response, I looked up, only to find that he hadn't registered what I had said. His keen eyes were fixed on the movements of a suspicious, hunched over man. The man kept close to the other humans around him and, with swift and experienced hands, snatched any valuables from unsuspecting pockets.

Careful not to arouse attention, I allowed my hands to open. A rush of energy flew through my fingertips and I felt the adrenaline through each twitch of my fingers. If the man tried to steal from me, he would get what was coming to him.

Quick Silver looked down, more specifically at my hand, and shook his head.

With a roll of my eyes I re-clenched my hand, but kept my focus on the human thief.

"There you are," came a familiar voice. "I see you arrived safe and sound then."

"Your contact was very helpful, Bruneor," I said. "But I never knew he was going to take us through a Maker damned sewer to get here. It would have been better to pay the guards upfront."

"And make more people aware of your arrival? You're a bright kid, Farwen, and you know how risky that is. There's no point in being so arrogant about it," he replied.

I frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. "That you're not grateful for what I had to do to get you here. It could have been a lot worse, trust me."

Ashamed, my gaze drifted to my boots. "Forgive me. It has just been a long day."

Bruneor patted my shoulder. "It's been a long month, kid, but it'll be worth it. Come on, I have a place where we can lie low for a while."

"And where is this place?"

"Hah," he chuckled. "Just down the street. It's not the fanciest of places, but it'll do for now."

"With the state of this city, I'm a little worried of what this place may be. Though, as long as it's not a sewer or some cave, I'm sure I'll be fine with it," I replied.

A wooden structure swayed gently from side to side just over the door of a tavern. It was painted as a human, hung by his feet.

"Don't let the sign fool you. The Hanged Man isn't so bad," Bruneor smirked and pushed me through the doorway.

The place was quite empty inside with several unoccupied tables and benches. Chatter and whispers were shared between armoured men near the back of the tavern, but other than that it was quiet.

"Take a seat, kid. I'll make the arrangements," Bruneor said before he walked over to the innkeeper.

As he talked to him, I couldn't help but pull my hood slightly further over my face and ears. I could have sworn that one of the armoured men pointed in our direction.

"So, what do you think, Quick Silver?" I asked the Qunari.

He did not reply.

"Do you... talk at all?" I tried again. "Can you talk?"

Slowly, the Qunari's shoulders relaxed and he hunched himself over the table. He nodded.

"That's good," I smiled. "What do you think of Kirkwall so far?"

His large shoulders moved in his imitation of a shrug. "Dangerous," was his answer.

"Isn't everywhere?"

His horns grazed the back of his chair as he leaned back. The whispers from the men behind us stopped almost abruptly.

I looked back over my shoulder, only to find that Bruneor was still talking to the innkeeper. A pouch of coins stood between them.

"How much longer are you going to stay with us, Quick Silver?"

The Qunari frowned. "I do not understand."

"My master ordered you to make sure that we got to Kirkwall safely, yes? When are you going to return to him?"

"His orders are not your concern," was his reply.

"Aren't they?" I asked.

"The human stated that I was to stay with you and the dwarf until otherwise. That is all I will share with you," he said gruffly and looked away.

I was about to ask why when the table banged three times. Bruneor placed three tankards between us and brought a chair to the table.

"It looks like we'll be stayin' here for the time being," he said.

I blinked. "Here? In the tavern?"

"It's the best place to keep out of trouble. You and the Qunari have rooms here for the next month."

"And you?"

"You don't need me coddling you every day, kid," Bruneor chuckled. "I'll be stayin' somewhere else." He handed me a pouch of coins as well as a dagger. "You never know if you'll need them."

I nodded and attached the items to my belt. "So, what happens now?"

Bruneor took a large sip of his ale. The handle almost got tangled in his beard. "I have an old contact I need to see. Word is that he's been stayin' here for a while and I'll be able to get a better understanding of what to do next. Don't worry, I'll get you into Hightown. But first, you and the Qunari need to keep your heads low."

"Like that will be easy," I muttered under my breath.

Bruneor's tankard hit the table. "Hey, we made it to Kirkwall kid. That's one step done. Leave me to worry about the hard parts."

"Yeah," I smirked and took a sip of my water. "I guess you're right."

"Good. Now, if I was you, I'd get some rest. It's been a long day," he advised. "You should take a look around the city tomorrow. It'd be better than staying in this pit all day."


End file.
